Dare Me Page 5

  Misty shrugged.

  “I was really hoping you’d watch it with me one day.”

  “I dunno.” Her cheeks got hot at the idea of watching herself in action with Adam. “It feels…wrong.”

  “Here.” He handed her the bottle. “Drink some more champagne until it feels right.”

  “There isn’t enough alcohol in the whole world to get me so drunk I’d say yes to making a sex video.”

  “That’s why I didn’t tell you. I didn’t want you to freak out.” He stroked the strands of hair framing her face then planted a kiss on her forehead. “I didn’t do it to hurt you.” He wrapped his arms around her. “Did you at least enjoy it?”

  “Of course.”

  “Are you going to think about it when you go home?”

  “Yes.”

  “Well, now you can watch it and remember how good it felt.”

  To avoid his soulful eyes, and so he couldn’t see the truth in hers, she buried her face in his chest, titillated by the idea of being his subject—like the girls under the bleachers in high school.

  “But, I have to be honest with you.” His voice dropped an octave. “There’s another reason why recorded us.”

  Misty took a step back, bracing herself for a low blow, like he was broadcasting it live or something equally disturbing.

  “If, by some chance this was our only time together, at least I’d have the video to hold on to. The picture in my wallet is kinda faded.” He opened a panel on the camera and pulled out the memory card. “But if it bothers you, I’ll delete it.”

  She shook her head. “You can put it back in the camera and turn it on.”

  Adam gave her a sideways glance. “Really?”

  She nodded and adjusted her long hair to cover her breasts, hiding what she could before slipping into his white dress shirt.

  “Stop.” He raised his palm and she froze. “Would you mind if I take a few shots of you just like that?”

  She agreed without hesitation, warming to the idea of getting what she’d wished for—being his muse. After the intimacy they already shared, there was no reason to feel self-conscious but she did.

  “Sit in the chair.” He came around the tripod to pose her: draped her hair over one shoulder, crossed her legs, opened the shirt wide. His gaze latched onto her exposed breasts. “Such beauties should never be covered.”

  “Wait.”

  “No.” He filled his hands with her flesh. Massaged them. Caressed them with the gentle stroke of fingers across each tip, then tasted one while fondling the other. “I’ve waited long enough,” he murmured against her skin. “We both have.”

  Her eyelids fluttered shut as she savored his sweet suckling. Weak knees parted as if her sex had a mind of its own and she wrapped her legs around him.

  Damn, this sinful man, his magnificent mouth, his camera fetish. She’d do anything for Adam Wright for more of this.

  Chapter Seven

  Adam pulled away only to catch his breath. But one glance at Misty’s satiated expression and he knew she was equally hooked on this lust.

  “You look like a sleepy angel. I need a photo of this moment.”

  With heavy lids and a drunken smile, she whispered, “Make it quick.”

  Small talk drowned the noisy mirror click each time he snapped an image of Misty’s porcelain skin, pale eyes, and the waist-length curtain of ebony hair. An exquisite model for his lens.

  “Before I did portraits, I spent years working with my uncle photographing landscapes all over the world,” he rambled. “I’ve never seen a landscape more beautiful than the curves of your body.”

  “I need to stretch.” She arched her back with arms overhead.

  “Go right ahead.” He followed her with the lens. “Just ignore the camera.”

  “Remember that art teacher, Mrs. What’s-Her-Name? She’d only let us use a red crayon. Then the next week an orange crayon. Each week we were allowed only one color.” Misty reflected, sorting through the bottles of body paint from the gift basket. “It took forever to make a rainbow.” She snapped open the red and sniffed. “Mmm. Strawberry.”

  “What’re ya gonna do with it?” Adam egged.

  She shrugged. “I don’t wanna get it on your shirt.”

  “Then take it off.”

  With her smudgy, smoky eye makeup and the web of wild dark hair, she shot him with a cute dirty look over her shoulder. Snap. He captured an image that would make a steamy poster to hang on the ceiling above his bed. It was a good thing he didn’t try kissing her before the headshots because look at her now.

  “Well? Whatcha waiting for? It’s not like I haven’t seen every inch of you. Why ya being so shy?”

  “I can’t talk to you while you’re behind the camera.” She pouted. “Maybe if I had more champagne.”

  “Be right back.”

  When he returned with a fresh bottle from the mini-fridge, she was on the bed, naked, using her body as a canvas, swirling crimson circles between her thighs. Never mind still shots, he needed her on video.

  This time, he asked permission. “Mind if I record you?”

  She sat upon her colored knees, staining the ivory bedspread. “Only if you let me paint you.”

  Adam shook his head and turned on the camera despite her stipulation.

  “Why not?” She dribbled orange paint on her belly and rubbed it around. “It washes off.”

  “I’d rather you paint you and I watch.”

  “Pleeease.” She massaged green on one breast and blue on the other, making his fingers itch to touch her.

  It took all his effort to stand his ground. “Come on, Misty.”

  “I dare you to let me,” she teased with a crooked smile, drawing a line from her bottom lip down between her legs. “I double-dog dare ya.”

  “You skipped over the double-dare.”

  “If you wanna do that…” She nodded to the camera then shot fingers at him like a double gunslinger. “Then let me do this to you.”

  Swaying in deliberation, he hid behind the lens. Although it seemed fun, he’d rather be an observer than a participant.

  “Adam,” she cooed and patted the place beside her. “Come. Let the camera do the work. I want to play with you.”

  Stroking his aching flesh, he recalled how warm and soft it had been inside her mouth and wanted to be there again—better yet buried deep between those luscious thighs painted like an upside-down rainbow. “I’m having fun watching you.”

  “I’ll knock that tripod sideways if you don’t come here.” She flicked the paint in the air, splattering purple on the beige walls. It landed on the camera, fortunately missing the lens.

  “What’s wrong with you?” He wiped away the sticky droplet.

  Flat on her back, bent knees parted, she swirled the kaleidoscope of colors over every inch of skin. “Please, Adam. I need you now before I burst into flames.” Her fingers explored the place he yearned to be.

  What red-blooded man could avoid such an offer? Certainly not this one.

  Surrendering to her plea, he dove on the bed just as her cell phone vibrated on the nightstand. The glowing screen lit up with the caller’s identity.

  “Who’s Jeremy?” There was no avoiding the jealous twinge, overcome by the skeptical tidal wave churning in his head.

  “He works at the bridal shoppe.”

  “Why’s he calling so late?”

  “Who cares?” She twisted herself around him, grinding against his lap, making it difficult to want to do anything but ravage her, yet Adam couldn’t let it go.

  “Do you think it’s a personal call? Or about business? Maybe you should check your messages.”

  Ignoring his suggestion, she suckled his neck. Nibbled his lobe. Breathed hard in his ear.

  It was tough to stay annoyed, but not impossible.

  “Is he interested in you, as more than a co-worker, that he’d call you so late on Valentine’s Day? Is he, like, your boyfriend or something?”

  Misty
rolled off him. “Where is this coming from, Adam? I already told you I’m single. He probably wants to know how the event went today.”

  Her excuse was viable, but he wanted assurance it wasn’t something more. He dared to ask the brooding question based on the data trapped in his head. “It seems, I dunno, strange to me that he wouldn’t wait until you’re at work to ask about work. Why call you so late on Valentine’s Day? What if you had plans?”

  “He knew I didn’t have plans. Why would I have plans? I’m not with anyone. Running into you today was pure luck. Please don’t let a phone call ruin the moment.”

  “Did you sleep with him?”

  Her silence was all the confirmation he needed.

  “Sooo…is Jeremy the ex? Or the brother?”

  “The brother.” She frowned. “Glen is the ex.”

  “I see.” Adam nodded, wrapping his mind around the scenario, which only prompted more delving questions. “How long ago did you and Glen split up?”

  Misty sighed and rolled her eyes to the ceiling as if struggling to calculate Pi to the precise decimal. “Six months or so.”

  “When did you sleep with his brother?”

  “About five months ago—geez, Adam, I’m not hiding anything from you. If you were so curious you should have asked these questions while we were on the subject.”

  “And in five months you haven’t gotten the inkling that, maybe, Jeremy was interested in being more than a rebound?”

  Misty shrugged. “Does it really matter?”

  “It might. Did it cross your mind to date him? Ever?”

  “He’s a nice guy, but, no, I could never—for a variety of reasons.”

  Adam wanted to hear every single one. “Like?”

  “He’s my ex’s brother. And he works for my family. I would never mix business and pleasure. And even if it weren’t the case, I don’t have any special feelings for him.”

  “Does he know this?”

  “Yes. I’ve made it clear we would never be anything more than a one-time thing. We were both going through break-ups and were in the same place, at the same time. It just…happened. Then it was over—no plans, no promises.”

  As good as her reasoning sounded, it still irked him. Her past love life wasn’t the sort of pillow talk he needed and, like his ego, his hard-on deflated. He swung his feet to the floor. Debated putting on pants and heading to the lobby to get some distance between them and this conversation.

  Maybe locking himself in the bathroom for a few private minutes would clear his mind. Take a piping hot shower. Or stick his head in this sink and let the cold-water run. He needed to gather his wits before he could get back into the groove of making love to this woman who seemed so desperate to have him.

  “Adam… Don’t go. Please.”

  The soft singsong in her plea made his shaft twitch with new life, proving his pride wasn’t damaged beyond repair.

  “I’ll be back.” He padded out of the bedroom, grabbing an open champagne bottle from the dresser. A swig wasn’t enough. Hell, the bottle wasn’t enough of a mind eraser, but it would do for now.

  He downed it on the way to the bathroom, cursing himself for letting his jealous streak get the best of him and possibly ruin a great thing with Misty. She didn’t do anything wrong, so there was nothing to forgive. Like everybody else, she had a past. So why did he feel so angry?

  The faint knock on the door jolted him.

  Chapter Eight

  “Adam? May I come in?”

  With the top-sheet wrapped around her toga-style, Misty pressed her palm to the door and it swung with ease. She would have put on her dress but she was sticky from the sweet paints. After a quick shower, or at least a swipe of a wet washcloth, she’d be on her way if he wanted her to go.

  Adam leaned over the sink, watching her through the mirror’s reflection, his face an unreadable blank mask. He must have felt equally ill learning about Misty’s past love life as she had been prying similar information from his lips, pressuring him to regurgitate memories better left forgotten.

  Torn between apologizing for nothing and suggesting she leave now for the greater good of salvaging the moment, the question on the tip of her tongue floated from her head into the ether. “Maybe…I think…it would it be best if I go, before I make things worse?”

  His eyes widened as if shocked by her words.

  “I don’t want to ruin the rest of the night. And I would like to see you again if you’re still interested.” She held her breath, waiting for him to say something—anything.

  “Misty.” Adam shook his head. “Of course I’m still interested. It wouldn’t bother me so much if I wasn’t so interested.” He dropped the towel in the sink then wrapped his arms around her. “I don’t want you to go.”

  She exhaled, relieved. “We’re not moving too fast, are we?”

  He chuckled and kissed the top of her head. “Are ya kidding’? We’re like lightning. Would you be happier if we slowed down?”

  “No.” Misty rubbed her cheek against his chest, listening to his heartbeat. “I don’t know how to slow this down even if wanted to. Aside from walking out the door.”

  Adam lifted her chin and drilled her with laser eyes. “Don’t you dare leave me now.”

  Then he kissed her—warm, deep, potent.

  His lips and tongue burned a trail from her mouth, up and down her neck. “Mmm, you taste so sweet,” he murmured, nibbling her earlobe, making her wriggle and giggle helplessly at the teasing sensation. “You’re more beautiful in this wrinkled bed sheet covered in paint than any of the brides in those expensive dresses.”

  “I know you’re just saying that.”

  “I wouldn’t say if it weren’t true.” He scooped her up and carried her to the bed.

  Misty crawled under the covers and Adam settled beside her. For fun, and for a much-needed delay tactic, she snatched the bag of candy hearts from the nightstand and picked out a pink one.

  “What’s it say?”

  “U R SWEET.” Misty popped it in her mouth.

  “Well, that’s true, you are. Pick one for me.”

  She sorted through the colors and pulled out a green one. “U R COOL. I’d say you’re hot.” Adam opened his mouth and she put the candy between his teeth.

  Next she picked a yellow one and was about to eat it when Adam caught her wrist and snatched it from her fist. “Hmmm…DARE ME.” A wicked smile spread from ear to ear. “I like this one. Let’s save it.”

  Tired of stalling her stallion, Misty rubbed his cheek, chin, down his neck. Ran her palm over the soft hair of his chest. Followed the trail to the dense patch below his hips. Curled her fingers around his thickness.

  His eyes rolled back, lids fluttered closed with a long, deep moan of approval.

  Nothing would get in the way of this moment—not her cell phone, which she’d turned off and shoved between the couch cushions. Nor the family business, which would be there in the morning.

  Misty grabbed his wallet from the nightstand and flipped past the ancient photo to find the condom. She armed her target with protection before straddling him.

  His strong hands held her back. “You’re sure you’re ready for this?”

  “I dare you to stop me.”

  “Oooh—now that’s my kinda dare. I just don’t want you to do something you might regret.”

  “I’ve never been so ready for anything. Are you?”

  “I’ve loved you every day of my life since I set eyes on you all those years ago.”

  “That’s all I need to hear.” Misty held her breath as she made the slow descent into the unknown.

  Two souls fused on a rapturous ride of a lifetime before she shuddered and folded onto Adam’s chest. His fingers gripped her hips as he released a satiated growl. After they finished making love, she rolled over and curled up alongside him.

  “The camera’s recording, isn’t it?” The tiny red dot of light was easier to see from this angle.

  “Yep.” A
dam held her tight. “Are you okay with it?”

  She listened to his heartbeat without a care in the world. “Yep.”

  “By the way, when I said your headshots didn’t come out so good, they did. Beautiful in fact.” Adam rambled some photo-lingo that had Misty yawning.

  She closed her eyes and wrapped her love-sore body around his. The last thing she heard before dozing off was Adam saying, “Happy Valentine’s Day, love.”

  And that’s exactly what it was.

  A word about the author…

  Debra Druzy writes contemporary romance.

  She is the author of Sleeping with Santa, also published by The Wild Rose Press, Inc.

  You can visit Debra’s website at

  www.debradruzy.com

  Thank you for purchasing

  this publication of The Wild Rose Press, Inc.